


Dosed

by cadkitten



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Drugged Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:38:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8536978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Roy gets dosed with an aphrodisiac while he's still pumped up on Mirakuru. They get him back to base and restrain him, but the rest of the plan falls short of what Roy needs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just had to do the sex drug trope at least once and hell, why not for Arrow?  
> Beta Readers: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "Sleepwalker" by Adam Lambert

Roy groaned as he tried to roll over. His eyes were still shut tight against the thrumming pain inside his skull, but he could hear someone moving around close by. Struggling to move his arms, it took a few tries before he realized they were strapped down by way of his forearms, tightly bound to the table he was lying on. The feel of the air around him was something he was relatively _used_ to, the vague scent of Felicity's perfume and the aftershave Oliver liked to use prickling along his senses. 

The lines of logic drew themselves out and he realized he must have done something if he was strapped down like this. His mind fished for the last things he could remember, dredging up slow memories of people and places, of a heated fight and a knife being drawn over his forearm and then _nothing_. 

Sighing, he forced his eyelids open and lolled his head to the side, groggily watching Oliver move around a few feet away from him. 

"Ollie." His voice sounded cracked to his own ears, broken in ways he wasn't quite ready to identify, and the flicker of a thought as to what he'd actually done before being tied up slipped through his mind.

Oliver moved to the edge of the table, leaning over him, _examining_ him. The realization hit him full-force and he closed his eyes again. He opened his mouth to question what had happened, what he'd done _this time_ \- because it seemed he couldn't keep himself out of trouble - but the words dried up in his throat as Oliver's scent invaded his entire world on the inhalation. A shudder slammed through him and it took every ounce of his willpower not to moan, not to rip himself free of these restraints and-

His breath whooshed out as he forced control over his own body, clenched his fists and tipped his head backwards. The burn of arousal flooding through him forced a roll of his hips, bringing him to the awareness that his thighs were strapped down just the same as his arms were. Oliver's hand came to rest on his wrist, taking his pulse, and Roy's entire body _jerked_ with the contact, a sharp cry leaving him that he had honestly never heard the likes of before. 

"What's... what's happening to me?"

Oliver's hand pulled back from his wrist, moved to rest on the edge of the table again judging by the soft click of his ring against the metal. "Someone in that fight laced their blade with a blend of several drugs. Violet to put you out and we're still analyzing what's causing the _rest_ of this."

Roy tugged at his arms and then settled, realizing he needed to stop that and stay strapped down if they didn't know what was in his bloodstream. He gritted his teeth against the next spike of arousal, against the urge to rip himself free and find _anything_ to stick his dick in. The need was indiscriminate, simply washing him with a desire to _take_ no matter what it was. He was pretty sure even jerking himself off would have been enough right then, if only he could _reach_ that far. 

He struggled a little, trying to see if he could without making it obvious what he was trying to reach for. Closing his eyes, he huffed out an annoyed sound. "Aphrodisiac..." 

"Yes." Oliver's voice was quiet, just a little further away than he had been a moment before and Roy wanted nothing more than to reach for him, to drag him back into his personal space.

Another sharp jerk of his hips that he couldn't have stopped if he'd wanted to and Roy didn't try to stop the wanton little noise from bubbling up past his lips. " _Need_ something... anything."

Oliver was there in an instant, his hand curling around Roy's wrist and holding on tight. "You can fight this."

Roy's body tensed, his hips jerking again, letting him hump the air for a moment before settling. "Can't. Don't _want_ to." His arms strained and he heard the way the metal locks holding the straps in place threatened to give under the pressure he was putting against them. "Please... Ollie, _please_."

Oliver's hand rubbed over his forearm and Roy jerked away in order to turn his hand and catch Oliver's wrist, holding it tight in his grip, though not tight enough to actually hurt him. When he spoke, there was a hardness in his voice that he hadn't expected, the _threat_ of his need simmering just below the surface. "Either let one of my arms free so I can take care of this or _do something about it_."

He let his eyelids slip open, caught the spark of something that looked suspiciously like _fear_ flash in Oliver's eyes and there was a moment of questioning himself, of questioning what was happening, and then, "I'm not-"

"Do I look like I fucking _care_?" The words came out as half a snarl and Roy would have been affronted by his own words if he could have given a shit right then. His entire body thrummed with a need that wouldn't be quelled, with a desire that felt nothing if not unbreakable. " _Touch me_ , Oliver."

Something about the use of his full name seemed to spark something behind Oliver's eyes and a second later, he was moving, yanking his hand away and reaching for Roy's belt. "If you hate me for this later, I sw-"

"Won't. _Can't_." Roy gritted out the words as his hips jerked up hard against Oliver's quickly working hands. He gave a sigh of relief as his jeans were opened, the clank of his belt against the table telling him he was close to getting something he wanted. The warm press of Oliver's hand against him - palming his length - pulled a moan from his lips. His hands balled into fists and he strained his hips upward, the pull of the straps around his thighs adding to the sensation of Oliver's fingers outlining his length through his boxers. "Shit, Ollie, _please_."

The elastic of his waistband shifted and suddenly there was contact, blessed _contact_ with his arousal and nothing he could have dreamed up would have been better in that moment. His hips started a frantic rock against Oliver's hand as he curled his fingers around him and began to stroke. His fists hit the table and he let out a laugh that was anything but humorous. 

"Couldn't... let me... go." His head thumped against the table as he pulled it up and dropped it back down, needing the extra sensation right then. "Couldn't _risk_ it, so - ah - you end up," his hips jerked a few times hard enough the thigh restraints actually started to hurt, "jerking me _off_."

Forcing himself to ease back down against the table, he looked up into Oliver's face, found the tense set of his jaw and then the way his pupils were utterly _blown_.

"Kiss me."

He watched the way Oliver was looking at him chance, the wariness in his gaze as he examined the situation from every angle he could think of. Roy huffed out an annoyed little sound. "Not a play, just..." he tipped his head back just enough to put them at the right angle, " _need this_." A small lie, a lie built to test his theories about just how much Oliver was actually enjoying this.

The idea of Oliver having been in such complete denial for so many years left excitement quivering in his belly, left him feeling like he was the proud new owner of something no one else would ever have, and the possessive side of his nature drove him to _provide_ something to keep Oliver attached to him. 

Oliver sighed and put on what had to be his best impression of someone utterly put out by what was happening as he leaned down over him. Their lips met and Roy twisted his arm around in the restraint until he could reach out and run his knuckles over the front of Oliver's leather pants. It wasn't difficult to feel how hard he was, to feel the warmth of his arousal radiating from the material, and Roy _groaned_ into the kiss, his excitement ratcheting up another notch at this little revelation. 

Breaking the kiss, he breathed out, "You're _hard_ ," against Oliver's lips, feeling him shudder, feeling the way his hand moved quicker over Roy's cock. Desire burned hot through Roy's body as he did his best with one hand to get some decent leverage on Oliver or at least on his pants. He caught hold of the zipper and yanked it downward, pushing his hand inside, gasping as Oliver slipped free of the slit in his boxers and right into his hand. His fingers curled around him, held him as Oliver's hips jerked, as the fires inside of him were cranked up another level.

Oliver tugged Roy's boxers down, revealing him to the air completely and Roy gave an excited little huff of breath, his hips arching and hovering there as Oliver's grip tightened and he stroked him faster. 

"Need _more_." These words were quieter than the others had been, less of an order and more of a plea, and it should have surprised him when Oliver followed the plea, should have left him in shock that he'd do such a thing, but he could barely _think_ as Oliver leaned over him and swallowed him down. There was a clumsiness to the first few movements that left Roy _certain_ this was a first in Oliver's life, but a sureness beyond it that told him of the many _received_ blowjobs he'd had over the years. 

His head hit the table and he let his hips find a steady pace, let his fingers clutch a little tighter around Oliver's cock. "Need you to _cum_."

Oliver moaned around him and his hips started working again, jerking rhythmically against his hand, pushing his cock in and out of Roy's grip. The very _idea_ that Oliver Queen was fucking his hand brought Roy right up to the precipice and threatened to tip him over the edge. He trembled, gasped as he rocked his hips faster, let the pleas leave his mouth over and over as he marveled over the swirl of Oliver's tongue, the feeling of such a strong grip on him. 

Oliver's hips jerked against his hand harder, his rhythm falling apart, and then Oliver was clutching at the table, trembling as he lost himself. Thick, warm spurts of his cum splattered over Roy's wrist and palm, and nothing in the entire world could have kept him from following Oliver right over the edge. His hips rocked once, twice more and then Oliver was stroking him quickly, still had him pressed against his tongue, but wasn't sucking as Roy came.

He let out a sharp cry, louder than he could recall ever being during such an act, his entire body trembling as he unleashed himself right into Oliver's mouth. The warmth of his cum slid back down his shaft, spilled over Oliver's quickly working hand, and Roy felt like he would keep right on cumming for the rest of his life. Oliver stroked until Roy was slamming his free hand against the table, until his voice was strained from crying out _Oliver's_ name, over and over again.

When Oliver finally relented, when he eased back and moved to swipe the back of his hand over his mouth, Roy could only stared dazedly up at him, the most satisfied feeling lingering deep inside of him that he'd ever had the pleasure to feel. 

He felt boneless as he sagged against the table. He barely took stock of the pick of the needle that drew his blood or the beep of the machine as it analyzed it. 

When Oliver leaned over him, he blinked up at him, still floating on what had to be the world's longest post-orgasm high. 

"The levels are dropping."

Roy stared up into Oliver's eyes, felt the lazy way his smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You _liked_ that."

For the first time since he'd known him, Roy watched Oliver's face contort into something that belayed a sincere lack of confidence, something that told of confusion and uncertainty, and he _felt_ for him. "I did, too."

Closing his eyes, he just left the smile on his lips as Oliver worked on cleaning him up, first his hand and then _lower_. "We need to talk." Hesitation and then, "Later."

Roy let out a hum of agreement, feeling the soothing arms of sleep tugging him down. His world ebbed into blackness and warmth and he just let himself fall into it, knowing he was somewhere safe, somewhere he could _trust_ , and he understood everything was going to be perfectly alright.


End file.
